


this i promise you

by mullethyuck



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Bodyguard, Dancing Lessons, Falling In Love, Getting to Know Each Other, Government Conspiracy, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Pining, Princes & Princesses, Royalty, Secret Identity, Strangers to Lovers, Swordfighting, Tutoring, also heads up haechan and hyuck are different people, don't ask me when or where this takes place bc i don't know either, strap in boys we're pulling a princess and the pauper
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-19
Updated: 2020-04-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 16,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23714560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mullethyuck/pseuds/mullethyuck
Summary: A life is a precious thing to swear to someone.
Relationships: Lee Donghyuck | Haechan & Suh Youngho | Johnny, Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Lee Jeno
Comments: 12
Kudos: 79





	this i promise you

**Author's Note:**

> look the royalty/knight trope is my favourite thing ever because i am a huge sap and i've been wanting to write it for a while so finally here i am!! all my love to [ari](https://twitter.com/dumplinghyuck) for sharing my passion for this trope and cheering me on and making the most wonderful [art](https://twitter.com/dumplinghyuck/status/1259886987084890116?s=21) for this fic ily bby couldn't have done this without you
> 
> ps. as you may have noticed i stole the [title](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=clSWaIEsIhs) from one of the greatest love songs of my childhood <3

Donghyuck never wanted this.

He'd always been perfectly happy at the little bakery he shares with his brother Johnny, content to make sweet tarts and mini pies with every filling imaginable and an unnecessary but endearing amount of ornation on the crust. It's his specialty, and their regulars love his desserts so much they'll travel two towns over by foot just to get some. (It's a long walk, so he makes it a point to save some extra for his favourite customers.) Naturally, the fact that Donghyuck enjoys his life should have been a bad omen, but he’d been too busy caught up in the routine of it all to consider that maybe something would come along and ruin it.

That something is more of a someone - Prince Haechan himself; heir to the throne, flashy and high maintenance, and a general menace to society. He's got a reputation as a spoiled brat, and he’s clearly stupid too, considering the most lethal assassin in the kingdom (namely, Mark Lee) has proclaimed loudly, publicly and on multiple occasions that he's out for Prince Haechan’s blood. And here this idiot is out of the castle, stepping into Donghyuck’s bakery, without so much as a bodyguard to keep him safe.

Donghyuck freezes in place where he's putting the fresh loaf of bread Johnny’s just baked on the counter to slice it, stopping mid-chew and swallowing his sample as he waits for something catastrophic to happen. What if he and his brother get arrested for kidnapping a royal or something? Surely the guard is out searching for the prince, and this won't look good for them if he's found in their presence. The guard never really bothers to ask questions till after the execution. Or so he’s heard.

Something catastrophic _does_ happen next, but not in the way Donghyuck is bracing himself for. Prince Haechan throws back the hood of his cloak which had been concealing his face, and Donghyuck nearly stabs himself with the knife in his hand from the force of his shocked flinch. He's reeling, and tries to blink away the reality before him but no matter how many times he scrubs at his eyes, nothing changes. Prince Haechan looks exactly like him.

Well, not exactly, because he's clearly freshly bathed and his brown hair is kept neat and short, unlike Donghyuck’s shaggy black mop, and he isn't covered in flour from multiple attempts at perfecting a new blueberry tart recipe, but the point stands. They could be twins, if Donghyuck didn't know for a fact that Johnny is his only living relative.

The prince is either oblivious or unaffected, and Donghyuck isn't sure which is worse, considering his entire worldview is shaken at this unexpected revelation. Prince Haechan just sits at a table and crosses his arms like he's above ordering at the counter like any other normal person. Technically he isn't a normal person, Donghyuck supposes, but he doesn't think the prince is meant to take that fact so literally.

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, bracing himself for the inevitable, and goes out to greet the prince. “Your Highness,” he says as neutrally as he can manage given the circumstances, bowing low to hide his grimace. “Our apologies, we weren't expecting your company, or we would have prepared something for you,” he adds when he straightens up, because he's sure Johnny will be mortified at the state of the shop whenever he manages to pry himself away from the oven and sees who it is Donghyuck is serving. Not that it's a mess or anything, but it's hardly up to royal standards.

Prince Haechan looks up from inspecting a perfectly manicured nail and says, “No one was. I snuck out.” He snickers, like he's some rogue mastermind for climbing out the window of his bedroom or whatever he did to get here, but Donghyuck will admit the guard clearly needs to fix some holes in their defense if even this moron of a prince can get past them.

“I see,” Donghyuck says somewhat flatly, because he isn't sure what he's meant to do with that information. “Well, I hope you have a fine time out on the town, then. If there's anything I can do to -”

“How about a complimentary slice of cake? I _am_ the prince, you know,” Prince Haechan says without an ounce of shame, and Donghyuck has never sympathized with renowned assassin Mark Lee more than in this moment. He wishes he knew how to contact him - maybe they’d get lucky and the prince would be gone by lunchtime.

Which is a horrid thing to think about anyone, but then Prince Haechan has the audacity to lean back in his chair and prop his feet on the table and Donghyuck considers forgetting Mark Lee and assassinating the prince himself. Obviously he doesn't. He just nods and flashes the prince a thin smile and turns to walk to the kitchen to fetch a slice of cake and also possibly beat his head against the wall till the prince leaves.

Johnny can instantly tell something is up, and Donghyuck just grumbles about how the prince wants free cake, and do you think we could poison it without getting caught? Or maybe if we got ahold of Mark Lee and buy him some time -

“Wait. The _prince_ is out there? In our bakery?” Johnny grabs Donghyuck’s shoulders, shaking him gently. “Am I hearing you right?”

Donghyuck nods. “Yes, but you're missing the point entirely.”

Johnny drops his hands and frowns at his little brother. “We are not poisoning the prince. If you get yourself sentenced to execution I'll kill you myself.”

“I'd be doing the kingdom a favour, though,” Donghyuck argues. “I’d be renowned as a hero.”

Johnny cuts him a look. “You know that’s -”

“Hey!” comes a call from out in the dining room. “Where's my cake? I don't have all day!”

Johnny just looks at Donghyuck. “Okay, I will consider poisoning the prince.”

* * *

They don't poison the prince. Johnny gives him his blasted cake, they alternate dealing with his misbehaviour to avoid strangling him every time he says something crass, and somehow manage to come out of it none the worse for wear. Well, aside from the mud stain the prince left on their table that Donghyuck spent ten minutes scrubbing off. And the slice of the ever popular fig cream cake that happens to be the most expensive thing on their menu which he only ate two bites of. And all the emotional damage of hearing Prince Haechan go on and on about how “you could just get out of poverty if you tried,” like he has any frame of reference for what poverty means (they're actually not that bad off) or what _getting out of it_ would entail. Other than that, they're great. Fabulous, even.

Donghyuck slumps into bed at an unusually early hour that night, exhausting from the strain of being formal with one of the rulers of the kingdom on top of his usual customer service duties. It's normally fine, because he loves the regulars, and the people in town are mostly agreeable, but his interactions with the prince were enough to put a damper on the whole day and drain him of any will to be a functional human being.

He's nearly drifted off to sleep when he hears a light rap on his bedroom door and Johnny opens it to peek his head in. “Hyuck?” he whispers, and Donghyuck groans into his pillow. “Can I come in?”

Donghyuck flounders around a little, getting under his blankets and turning to face his brother before patting the bed next to him. Johnny sits down, long legs stretched out, and taps his foot against the wall. “Do you need something?” Donghyuck asks, not unkindly, but a little short. Johnny isn't typically one to beat around the bush.

“You saw it too, right?” Johnny asks, breaking his staring contest with the wall to turn and meet Donghyuck’s eyes. “Please tell me you did.”

Donghyuck just looks up at him. “You're going to have to be more specific.”

Johnny runs a hand through his hair, letting it flop back into his eyes. “The Prince, he - Don’t you think he looked -”

“Like me?” Donghyuck finishes for him. Johnny nods, and Donghyuck sinks back into the mattress. “I did see it. I don't think the Prince did, though.”

Johnny barks out a laugh. “To be fair, I don't think he sees much of anything except himself.”

“True,” Donghyuck concedes with a shrug. “I wonder if they ever found him.”

“Surely they did.”

“Or they just gave him the satisfaction of thinking he outwitted them.”

“You have a point. I bet he'd throw a royal fit if they tried to make him go home before he was good and ready.” Johnny laughs at the mental image, and this time Donghyuck joins him.

Johnny pushes off the bed, stretching his arms out before offering Donghyuck a quick goodnight and a ruffle of his hair. Donghyuck pouts, but he can't be bothered to fix it. He falls asleep before Johnny even shuts the bedroom door.

* * *

Donghyuck assumes, rightfully so, that Prince Haechan’s stopover was a fluke thing and they needn’t worry about any more unannounced visitors crashing their humble bakery for no reason. He, of course, assumes incorrectly because the next day when he plods downstairs he's greeted by three knights before his feet even hit the wooden floor of the dining room.

“Donghyuck Lee?” a deep voice says, and Donghyuck can only look up at the man looming above him and nod. “Your presence is requested at the palace.”

And well, if members of the guard waiting for him at this hour of the morning was off putting, being escorted to the palace is downright terrifying.

“I'm sorry?” he says dumbly. It's too early for him to process whatever’s happening here.

“His Royal Highness the King has personally asked to see you,” another knight offers. The minor change in phrasing doesn't help Donghyuck understand any more than the first time he heard it.

Johnny comes down then, and he's muttering something about types of flour but he cuts himself off when he sees Donghyuck’s present company. “What -”

The second knight speaks up again. “We're here to accompany your brother to the palace.”

Johnny cocks an eyebrow. “For what reason?”

“That is confidential,” the third knight finally speaks up. “It’s a direct invitation from the King himself.”

 _Invitation_ makes it sound like they're throwing a ball, which Donghyuck is fairly certain is not the case, or at least if they are he certainly isn't invited. But Johnny can't argue with the king, so he just nods, and Donghyuck can't argue with three burly men practically dragging him out the door, so he complies.

The walk to the palace is excruciating, mostly because it's monotonous and the only scenery is miles and miles of farmland, which Donghyuck finds endlessly boring. He hates going to the palace, which he's only ever done once (when he was five years old and the king had his coronation ceremony and all the commoners used it as an excuse to flood the courtyard and party) but he doesn't have any particularly fond memories of it. He's indifferent at best, which in his mind makes the trip a total letdown.

Thankfully, since he's traveling with official knights who are provided horses, the trip takes less than half the time it would on foot. They reach the palace, they're ushered through an obscenely large gate and Donghyuck is told to follow the tallest knight, which he does. He loses track of which corridors they walk down and how many turns they take, and he's fairly certain they're just walking in circles by the time his guide stops in front of two massive wooden doors and motions for Donghyuck to wait outside. He stands there obediently, long enough for his feet to hurt and his stomach to growl in protest at skipping breakfast.

Then the door swings open, and the knight gives him a gruff, “Mr. Lee,” with an outstretched hand signaling for Donghyuck to enter the room. His left foot is asleep, but he manages not to make a fool of himself.

The king is sitting at a desk, which is surprisingly plain all things considered, and he stands as soon as Donghyuck walks into the room, which Donghyuck is pretty sure is a bit backwards. He bows, and the king waves his hand dismissively before he can get a word out. “Donghyuck!” he says agreeably as he walks over to clap a hand on Donghyuck’s shoulder. Donghyuck stands up tentatively, but the king just beams at him. “How was the ride here?”

Donghyuck can feel his face doing all kinds of things, and he isn't sure what his expression looks like right now but he's sure it's not something he should be directing at the king. He tries to school his face into something more relaxed when he says, “It was wonderful, Your Highness. Thank you.”

He goes to bow again, but the king steadies him with a hand on his arm. “No need to be so formal, my boy. Come, come, let me explain why you're here!” Donghyuck thinks the king seems a bit mad, what with how excited he is to see Donghyuck and all, but that's probably better than the alternative so he'll take it.

The king leads him to a chair across from the one he'd been occupying when Donghyuck entered the room, motioning for him to sit while the king takes his own seat once again. He props his elbows on the desk, folding his hands in front of him like he's contemplating how to navigate this conversation. Donghyuck understands the feeling. “So, here's the thing - I'm sure you've noticed you bear a striking resemblance to my only son?”

Donghyuck nods. “Yes, Your Highness.”

The king swats at the air. “I told you to stop that,” he says offhandedly, but he doesn't seem angry. “And have you heard the things people say about my son?”

Donghyuck grimaces, because he's said such things himself. “Yes, sir,” he answers, struggling to show his respect without addressing the king using his title. It feels wrong on a number of levels.

The king looks pleased, at least. “Well, I'm getting on in years, so it's only natural that my son will be taking the throne in no time. We probably only have another decade or so till his coronation.”

Donghyuck can't follow the king’s line of thinking for the life of him. “Yes, sir.”

“And it wouldn't do very well to crown a king all his subjects hate.” He says it so impartially, Donghyuck is actually impressed.

“Yes, sir.” He still doesn't know what this has to do with him. Unless the king just brought him here to lament his royal ass of a son, but somehow Donghyuck doubts that's the case.

“So I have a plan to remedy my son’s reputation,” the king says as he stands and moves to Donghyuck’s side. “How would you like to stand in for him? Not forever, and maybe not even till his coronation, but for the foreseeable future.” He flashes Donghyuck a winning smile.

Donghyuck is usually quick-witted, rarely at a loss for words, but if ever there were a time to be speechless, he thinks this is it. “I’m sorry, sir, I - I don't understand.” How could he? This really is madness.

The king hums, like he'd been expecting this; no rational person would take such an offer immediately. “Think of it this way: all you have to do is make public appearances for him, to get the people on his side. They need to see a prince who's polite, and kind, and compassionate - all the things my son is not.”

Donghyuck can feel his eyes go wide. “And you think I am all those things?”

“Based on the way my son talked about his trip to your bakery, yes, I do.” The king moves away to pace the floor, the knight (who’d been motionless up to this point) moving to the far wall. “I know this is a lot to ask, and I want to be frank with you.” He spins on his heel to walk back in Donghyuck’s direction. “We can't have anyone knowing about this, so you’d have to give up your old life entirely. You'd live here, take lessons here, and most importantly you'd carry out all the princely duties.” He pauses, pensive. “It won't be hard, I can assure you. Since the prince can't very well make any actual decisions, you'd mostly be responsible for being amiable at parties and showing the public your benevolence.”

Donghyuck stammers for a moment, but then the king turns around again and it's much easier to address his back than take this conversation head-on. “So, I’d become the prince till you decide to reinstate him?”

“Yes, exactly.” The king smiles at him over his shoulder. “Don't worry, we'll let you explain everything to your brother, and if he wishes to join our cook staff we will welcome him with open arms.” He crosses back to Donghyuck’s side, taking his hand. “You don't have to do this, you're free to walk away right now if you wish. But please understand, if you agree, there's no backing out.” His eyes are kind, and Donghyuck is inclined to believe him. After all, the king has always been a good ruler, it's only his son that seems intent on running the kingdom into the ground.

And really, what’s Donghyuck got to lose? If he can ensure Johnny's safety and bring his brother with him, that's really all he needs. Plus, he really does hate that bastard of a prince. “Okay, sir. I'll do it.”

* * *

So, Donghyuck never wanted this, but here he stands, Johnny’s arm slung over his shoulder, at the castle gates once again. He never could have imagined he'd travel to the palace twice in one week, much less move in. In reality, they haven't brought much, mostly Johnny’s favourite baking utensils and Donghyuck’s blanket their mother knitted him before she died. Sentimental things. It's really all they need now that every material extravagance is provided to them.

A group of knights greets them once they're inside, and they're told to meet with the king before settling in. Johnny looks incredibly stressed about the whole ordeal, which Donghyuck definitely sympathizes with, but at least he knows what they're getting themselves into with a bit more clarity than his brother, albeit not by much.

“Donghyuck, welcome!” the king says enthusiastically as soon as Donghyuck steps into the room. “And you must be Johnny,” he adds as he turns to the other man. “Pleasure to meet you.” He sticks out a hand before Johnny can even begin to bow, and Johnny looks at it like he's never been offered a handshake in his life.

Eventually he gathers himself and returns the gesture with a polite, “The pleasure is all mine, Your Highness.”

The king shoots Donghyuck a knowing look as he insists, “No need for such formality. You're practically family now!” Donghyuck fails to see the logic in that, but he's starting to accept the fact that the king is rarely checked by any sort of rational thought.

At the moment, he's too busy catching Johnny up to speed to pay Donghyuck much attention, and he's started pacing again so Donghyuck just hovers by the wall so as not to intrude. He can hear the king talking animatedly, as per usual, and Johnny’s hesitant replies, so reminiscent of the Donghyuck from a few days ago. It's almost entertaining, being on this side of things. He feels like he's in on some great secret, which he is, strictly speaking, but the king makes it feel more like an elaborate joke rather than an actual conspiracy.

It's then that the weight of what they're doing comes crashing down on Donghyuck. He isn't just part of a conspiracy, he _is_ the conspiracy. How would the public react if this ever gets out?

His chest is starting to tighten up, but his spiraling is interrupted by a tap on the shoulder. He turns, eyes coming back into focus on a knight who's currently bowing in front of him. “Hello,” Donghyuck says dumbly, because he's a bit out of his depth.

The knight doesn't seem to mind. He rises, and Donghyuck gets a good look at his face, and now he's _really_ going to die, just perish on the spot. “My name is Sir Jeno Lee. Pleasure to meet you, My Prince.”

Donghyuck just stands there dumbstruck for a good thirty seconds, because not only is the most beautiful man he's ever laid eyes on speaking to him, he's addressing him as the prince, and it's all quite a lot to take in at once. “Nice to meet you, Sir Jeno. I'm Donghyuck, but I suppose you have to call me Haechan, don't you?” The name feels strange on his tongue, but he does his best not to falter. He isn't sure how well he succeeds.

Jeno just smiles at him. “If you'd prefer, I can just address you by your title.”

“That would be preferable, yes.”

Jeno bows his head. “As you wish, My Prince.” Donghyuck breathes a sigh of relief. “I’ve been assigned as your bodyguard from now on, if you’ll have me.”

And in theory, Donghyuck is aware that he has some level of authority now, even as a fake prince, but it's still a very foreign concept to have people asking him his opinion on things. As if he knows anything about this life or how to go about it. “That's fine,” is all he says, because he can't think of anything else to say without embarrassing himself.

Jeno’s face lights up, eyes crinkling into tiny crescents with the force of his smile. “Brilliant. I'll let the Captain know.” He bows his head again, and Donghyuck is beginning to fear for the integrity of his neck. “I'll be back in just a moment, My Prince.”

And Donghyuck still thinks this whole business is a bit overwhelming, and he doesn't quite know how he feels about playing at being a prince, but the way Jeno says it, it doesn't sound so bad.

* * *

Hours later, after a lot of commotion and a long-winded castle tour from the king, Donghyuck is finally able to retire to his quarters and take a much needed rest, which he's incredibly grateful for because it’s been an awfully long day and he starts his princely lessons in the morning. He wasn't told precisely what that entails, but it sounds like a whole production so he's bracing himself for it, and he's determined to at least be well rested if he can't be prepared.

Jeno, it seems, takes his job very seriously, and refuses to leave Donghyuck’s side until he's safely in bed and the night guards start their rotation. It's a little endearing and a little suffocating, but Donghyuck appreciates his dedication to his post, to an extent.

“You can go now, Sir Jeno,” Donghyuck says as he's brushing his hair after his bath. There’s already a new knight stationed outside his bedroom, so he figures he's in good hands. Not that he minds Jeno’s company.

“Please, My Prince, just call me Jeno,” the knight reminds him as he has at least a dozen times over the course of the few hours they've known each other.

Donghyuck sets the hairbrush down, turning to face Jeno across the room, water droplets flying from his hair in the process. “Technically, you outrank me,” he reminds the knight. Social convention requires that Donghyuck address him with respect.

Jeno shakes his head, leaning against the wall where he's standing beside the window. “Technicality is irrelevant when you become Prince. You can do as you please.”

“But I’m _not_ the prince,” Donghyuck protests. “It's just an act.”

Jeno looks at him in a way Donghyuck can't decipher, then pushes off the wall and moves to stand in front of him. They're just an arm’s length apart, and Donghyuck can see the sincerity in his eyes as he says, “Act or not, you are my Prince now.” He reaches out a hand, and Donghyuck takes it. “And as such, I will do all that I can to protect you,” he continues with a gentle kiss to the back of Donghyuck’s hand. “I've sworn it on my life.”

Donghyuck can feel the heat in his face, but he ignores it. “I'm not sure if all that was necessary,” he says as Jeno drops his hand back to his side.

“It wasn't,” Jeno says simply.

Well, that's intriguing. Donghyuck had just assumed Jeno's been forced into this by his captain, or maybe even the king himself. “Then why do it?”

Jeno smiles, but this time it looks like it holds a secret. “I believe in this. I believe in you. And I want to do whatever I can to make this work.”

Donghyuck gives him a flat look. “You just hate Prince Haechan, don't you?”

Jeno shakes his head. “I could never hate you, My Prince,” he says with a bow. “Now get some rest. You have a big day ahead of you tomorrow.” 

He slips out the door before Donghyuck can say anything else.

* * *

Donghyuck didn't think learning to be a prince would be his new favourite pastime by any means, but he never imagined it would be this tedious.

As it turns out, _princely lessons_ is royal code for mind-numbing memorization of obscure laws and various other boring bits of information that he'll never use in this lifetime, especially since he isn't even a true candidate for the throne. It's not the ideal way to spend his day, but Donghyuck signed up for this, so he can't complain all that much.

He can complain a little, though. “I don't see the point of having me memorize the layout of our allied kingdoms. I'll never have any practical use for it.”

His tutor, who's called Renjun, just looks at him. He is really not much older than Donghyuck himself, but his eyes hold a certain sort of wisdom that Donghyuck suspects comes with being a child genius turned top tutor in the kingdom. “It's required for any respectable Prince. How could you ever hope to run a kingdom if you aren't even familiar with our greatest assets?”

Donghyuck smacks his head against his desk, cheek smushed as he says, “I'm not going to be running anything and you know that.”

Renjun huffs. “It's the principle, in this case. You at least need to be able to _pretend_ to know what you'll be doing in a few years.”

“Right. What I’ll be doing.” Donghyuck sighs wistfully. Renjun just pushes his glasses up and goes back to explaining what happens, politically speaking, when the kingdom goes to war. Donghyuck understands approximately none of it.

* * *

Donghyuck hurtles himself face first onto his bed, exhausted from his first day of the barest minimum of princely duties. He wonders how anybody does this for a lifetime.

“You alright, My Prince?” Jeno asks from his spot by the wall. Donghyuck’s noticed that Jeno only addresses him when they're alone, and he’s curious why, but he'd never dream of asking.

“I'm completely drained,” Donghyuck says into the sheets. “My head hurts, I think I may die.”

Jeno chuckles, and Donghyuck doesn't have to look up to guess what the expression on his face looks like. Jeno never smiles unless they're alone either, but when he does it leaves a lasting impression. “Somehow I doubt you're on the brink of death, but if -”

“Don't go get the physician, Sir Jeno,” Donghyuck cuts in before Jeno can even finish his thought. “Sometimes I just need you to let me be dramatic.”

Jeno nods, and doesn't even correct Donghyuck’s formality. “Go ahead, My Prince.”

Donghyuck rolls over, staring at the vaulted ceiling covered in shades of gold. “First of all, I hate pretending to be something I'm not. It all feels like such a farce. Why should I become Prince just because I look a certain way?”

“Well, please don't take offense, but if you didn't look like him then you wouldn't be a very convincing stand-in,” Jeno points out reasonably. Admittedly, the whole plan really does hinge on the fact they look alike.

On the other hand, the fact that Jeno refuses to address the real prince by name only drives home the fact that Donghyuck is not his own person. Not anymore. Donghyuck says as much, breathing out heavily in frustration.

Jeno doesn't respond for a moment, and Donghyuck has half a mind that the knight agrees with him, but then he sees a figure leaning over the bed to block his view of the ceiling. “You are your own person, My Prince,” he says softly. “We are required to address you by your proper name and title for appearance’s sake, but no one believes you are the same as him. After all, that is the very reason we need you.”

Donghyuck just blinks at him, heart pounding in his chest. “You’re all making a pretty risky gamble, betting on me.” He hates the feeling of being vulnerable, of voicing his insecurities, so this is the closest he'll get. He feels like he might cry.

Jeno shakes his head. “What's the worst you could do, My Prince? Surely, you can't tarnish his reputation more than he already has himself.”

It's funny, because those are exactly the words Donghyuck needed to hear, and he doesn't realize it till Jeno says them. “You’re right,” he concedes as he wipes a tear from his cheek.

“I do know some things,” Jeno says with an encouraging smile as he straightens back up, moving toward the door. “And I know you'll be an extraordinary Prince, if you let yourself.”

Donghyuck just sniffles as the door clicks shut.

* * *

“Don't you ever get tired of explaining things to me over and over?” Donghyuck groans into the map of the known world currently spread out over his desk. It's been weeks of this, and he feels like a complete dunce for not understanding even the basic concepts by now.

Renjun hums from his chair by the window, flicking his grey hair out of his eyes as he turns a page in his book. “Not particularly, no. I like you, so I don't mind teaching you.”

Donghyuck sits up abruptly, and there's a crease in his cheek from the map. He's been sulking quite a while. “You're friendly, though. Is there anyone you don't enjoy teaching?”

Renjun smirks, and suddenly Donghyuck sees why some of the maids warned him about getting on his tutor's bad side. “Well, yes, but you replaced him. So it's better for both of us, I suppose.”

Donghyuck nods in understanding. “You didn't like him either?”

“No one liked him.”

“Well, right. Neither did I,” Donghyuck admits for the first time to anybody besides Johnny. He wonders what it is about Renjun that makes him feel like he can be honest.

Renjun barks out a laugh. “I don't blame you. He always was a bit of a twat.” Ah, maybe that's it. Renjun's always honest himself, at least as much as he can get away with.

Which, speaking of, “Are you sure you should be saying such things about your Prince?”

Renjun furrows his brow like he's confused. “What do you mean, Your Highness? You are my Prince, and I would never speak ill of you.”

Donghyuck flashes him a conspiratorial smile. Renjun gives him a wink, and tells him to get back to studying.

* * *

It's two months into Donghyuck’s stay at the palace when Jeno brings him bittersweet news, bright and early in the morning. At first, the day seems routine; Jeno knocks lightly on the door as he enters, throws the curtains back so the sunlight can warm Donghyuck’s face and coax him from his sleep, and starts briefing him on his schedule for the day. Up till now, it’s been a lot of “Today you have lessons with Renjun till suppertime,” and not much of anything else.

So when the knight smooths out Donghyuck’s jacket where it’s draped over the velvet chair in the corner of the room and says, “The King is planning a ball, and he’s requesting that you begin dancing lessons,” it shocks Donghyuck awake in record time.

He sits up in bed, hair sticking out every which way in an unkempt mess, and stares owlishly at Jeno. “So then, no lessons with Renjun?”

Jeno shakes his head, offering a hand to help Donghyuck out of bed. He takes it, and Jeno pulls him up so swiftly he feels a bit lightheaded. Then again, that might also be thanks to their close proximity, but Donghyuck refuses to acknowledge that possibility. “No, My Prince. You’re doing well in your studies, and dancing is more important at social events than military strategies,” Jeno clarifies with a smile. It's more blinding than the glare of the sun streaming through the window, though admittedly a lot more pleasant. Donghyuck would gladly go blind if Jeno backlit by the sunrise is the last thing he gets to see. “It's only temporary, but for now His Highness would prefer if you focused on more...social teachings.”

Donghyuck nods, dressing in a daze as Jeno waits to escort him to the ballroom. When they stand in the doorway of Donghyuck’s bedroom, he stops Jeno with a hand on his wrist.

“Is something wrong, My Prince?” Jeno looks genuinely worried, and his hand instinctively moves to the hilt of his sword.

“No, no,” Donghyuck assures him, dropping Jeno’s arm abruptly. “I was just wondering…” He trails off. Now that he's started asking, he feels selfish and a bit silly, too.

Jeno turns to look at him fully. “What is your request? I will do everything in my power to make it come true.”

Donghyuck feels the corner of his mouth curve into a lopsided smile, because it's an answer so typical of Jeno that it almost hurts. “I’d just like to see my brother, is all.” It's nearly a whisper; he's afraid of how childish it would sound if he said it at full volume.

Jeno’s face softens. “If that's what you want, I can take you to him.”

Donghyuck looks up at Jeno, and is relieved to find there's no judgement in his eyes. “Are you sure it's alright? I’m supposed to be learning to dance.” Truthfully, he’s probably late by now.

“It’s more than alright, My Prince. You've been here eight weeks and barely seen him in that time, it's only natural you'd miss him.” He holds out an arm so Donghyuck can link his through it. “And you know,” Jeno continues as they start down the corridor, “you _are_ the Prince. You don't have to answer to anyone but the King.”

“I'm not so sure that's how it works, Sir Jeno,” Donghyuck counters.

Jeno laughs. “Not exactly, no. But my point is, if I may be frank,” Donghyuck nods an affirmation, “you're allowed to ask for things. You may be a Prince, but you're still a man first.”

“By that logic, you may be a knight, but you're still a man first, too. You don't need to be at my beck and call all hours of the day. It must be tiring.”

They stop in front of a large wooden door, and the smell of something delicious wafts under the crack. It occurs to Donghyuck that he hasn't been to the kitchen before, in all the time he's been staying here. Jeno delicately untangles his arm from Donghyuck’s, pushing open the door and stepping inside. “Trust me when I tell you, My Prince, I am perfectly content where I am,” he says with a bow.

Donghyuck starts to protest, because babysitting a fake prince can’t possibly be fulfilling, but then Johnny spots him and he's running into his big brother’s arms, leaving Jeno at his post by the door. Johnny swings him around in a circle, and when he puts Donghyuck down the familiar sight of his brother covered in flour is enough to make him weep. Or well, want to weep. Thankfully, he manages to suppress the urge and avoid the colossal embarrassment that would entail.

“What are you doing all the way down here?” Johnny asks, arm still draped across Donghyuck’s shoulders.

“I just missed you,” Donghyuck says truthfully, and Johnny’s eyes instantly go soft.

“I've missed you too, Hyuck,” he says with a ruffle of Donghyuck’s hair. “So, what's it like being a Prince?”

Johnny leads him to a stool at the counter and motions for him to sit. “It's...eye opening. At first it was interesting to see how royals live, but once I found out how much studying is involved it lost a lot of its magic.”

Johnny throws his head back with a laugh. “You never were one to study, were you?”

Donghyuck props his elbows on the counter, cradling his face in his palms. “If I have to memorize one more family tree I may genuinely lose my mind,” he says into his hands.

“Well, I’m sure you'll be taking a break to prepare for the ball?” Johnny prompts, and Donghyuck moves his head up to look at him.

“Oh, you'll be cooking for that?” he asks dumbly.

“Of course I am,” Johnny says like it's obvious, which it very well should be. “Who do you think I am?”

“Only the best baker in the entire kingdom,” is Donghyuck’s serious answer. Then Johnny’s laughing, and needlessly explaining every course of the meal they're preparing for the night, and Donghyuck feels a pang in his chest from how much he missed this.

* * *

Eventually, Donghyuck does have to see to his princely duties. Which in this case, means saying goodbye to his brother (with promises to visit more often from now on) and latching onto Jeno’s arm so the knight can once again guide him through the great halls up to the ballroom. 

Jeno swings the doors open, allowing Donghyuck to step in first as he always does, and Donghyuck gasps in awe of the ornate room. He's never been in here before, has never had a reason to be, but the decorations are so elegant and intricate he thinks he'd easily spend a whole day just admiring it, if given the chance. It's all striking art framed with pale pinks and blues and golds and marble, and essentially the sum of all excess that someone like Donghyuck would expect from a palace ballroom. But somehow it doesn't seem gaudy, just a bit extravagant.

The man standing in the center of it all fits right in.

“Your Highness!” he says warmly as soon as Donghyuck is within earshot. “I've been expecting you.” He bows deeply, offering to take Donghyuck’s hand and raising it to his lips in a brief kiss.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” Donghyuck says sheepishly even as the man keeps his hold on Donghyuck’s hand.

“Don't worry yourself over it,” he says, and it sounds friendly in a way that makes Donghyuck believe his words are sincere. “I'm Jaemin, your dance instructor from this day on.”

“Pleasure to meet you.”

“Oh no, Your Highness,” Jaemin says as he lets Donghyuck’s hand fall back to his side. “The pleasure is all mine, I assure you.” His smile is so saccharine, Donghyuck can practically taste it.

Donghyuck takes in Jaemin’s dark hair, perfectly swept back out of his face, his vest a shade of pink that couldn’t be easy to come by, and the gold jewelry dangling from his wrists and slender fingers. He even has golden earrings - a thing Donghyuck has only heard about in tales of pirates. He decides then and there that Jaemin can't be trusted; surely he's hiding something behind all his bravado.

Donghyuck won't tell him as much, of course. “I hope you're alright with an inexperienced student,” is all he says.

Jaemin’s eyes glint with something Donghyuck actively ignores. “Why, Your Highness? Have you never learned to waltz before?”

Donghyuck levels him with a flat look. “You know the answer to that question as well as I do.”

Jaemin just nods, still smiling as he turns toward the opposite end of the room. “Jeno?” he prompts, and the knight pushes off the wall to make his way over to the piano that sits in the corner closest to them. “Let’s start simple, shall we?” he asks Donghyuck.

Donghyuck has no frame of reference for what defines a simple waltz, but then Jaemin is taking his hand and pulling him close and the lack of space between them is stifling. “I don't know what I’m meant to do,” he points out helpfully.

Jaemin adjusts Donghyuck’s hands, placing them where he wants them (presumably, where they're meant to go). “Don't worry your pretty little head, Your Highness,” he says with a grin, “Just follow my lead and you'll be fine.”

* * *

Donghyuck is not fine. His legs are horribly sore, he has a budding blister on his left heel, and the lingering shame from stepping on Jaemin’s feet at least four times over the course of his lesson is haunting him. He throws himself into bed, shoes and all, which unfortunately is becoming a common occurrence.

Jeno, ever patient, urges him to at least put on his nightclothes. “You’ll regret it in the morning if you don't, My Prince.” Donghyuck has come to the conclusion that Jeno is always right, which is only mildly infuriating because Donghyuck rarely wants to listen to him.

But he does, like always. Jeno offers him a bath, says it might relax his body, but Donghyuck can't be bothered with it so he just gets dressed and burrows under the covers, sighing contently.

“Sir Jeno?” he tries after some time just laying there, Jeno keeping watch by the door.

Jeno has long since given up on convincing Donghyuck not to address him by title. “Yes, My Prince?”

“Where did you learn to play the piano?” Donghyuck’s been wondering for hours, ever since he first heard Jeno play - he's magnificent at it, surely much better than a knight has any reason to be. It dawns on Donghyuck that he really doesn't know much about Jeno at all.

Jeno shrugs a shoulder, armour clinking together with the movement. “My mother played. I used to be a dancer.”

Donghyuck shoots up in bed, turning his torso to face the knight. “You were?”

Jeno smiles, and his eyes look a little far away like he's reminiscing. “Yes. I was in a dance troupe with Jaemin, to be specific,” he says, nostalgia dripping from his voice.

That's surprising in its own right, but Donghyuck has more pressing questions. “What made you become a knight, then? Didn't you enjoy dancing?”

“I loved it. I just found that I love protecting people more.”

Donghyuck tilts his head, perplexed. “You could have done that perfectly fine without becoming a knight.”

Jeno nods. “True, but - May I be frank with you?”

Donghyuck huffs, waving a hand for Jeno to come over. He does, and Donghyuck pulls him to sit down on the edge of the bed. “You know you don't have to ask permission from me.”

Jeno looks slightly uncomfortable being on the _prince’s_ bed, but he masks it well. “You know I will keep asking.” Donghyuck does, so he sighs. “But to tell you the truth, I didn't plan to become a knight. It was mostly Jaemin’s doing.”

“Jaemin?” He doesn't strike Donghyuck as the type to endorse knighthood and all the values that come along with it.

“He’d always hated our little troupe - or not the troupe itself, exactly, but the fact that no one would remember his name terrified him.”

Donghyuck frowns. “What's that got to do with you?”

The corners of Jeno’s lips quirk up in a smile, and it's not enough to make his eyes crinkle but it's enchanting all the same. He has a way of making Donghyuck hang onto every word. “Ever since we were children, Jaemin had big dreams, always said he'd end up in the palace one day. No one believed him, naturally, but he insisted. So one day he sat me down and told me, ‘Jen, I'm leaving. If I ever see you again it'll be because we've both made it to the top.’”

Donghyuck’s mouth drops open ever so slightly, but he catches it and snaps it shut. “He left you just like that?”

Jeno shakes his head. “He probably wouldn't have, if I'd told him not to. But all I said was, ‘See you then,’ so he set off the next morning.”

“How long was it before you met again?”

Jeno thinks for a moment, pursing his lips, and absentmindedly leans back on one hand. Donghyuck doesn’t dare point it out. “Five years, give or take. Jaemin made it here much faster than I did, since I had to go through training and work my way up the ranks. But it was worth it.”

“Because you're with your best friend again?”

“Well yes, but not entirely. I love what I do, and I love keeping people safe. Seeing my best friend happy is only an added benefit.”

Donghyuck shifts to fully face the knight, laying down to prop his elbow on the pillow, cheek in hand. “You're a good man, Sir Jeno.”

Jeno just gives him another tiny smile. “You're a good man too, My Prince.”

Donghyuck doesn't fully believe it, but Jeno makes him want to try anyway.

* * *

Another week passes, and Jaemin deems Donghyuck’s dancing satisfactory enough that they can move on to more exciting moves. Essentially, he seems to be using it as an excuse to toss Donghyuck around the room.

Jeno is back on piano, and the piece he's playing is faster than the others they've danced to so far. Jaemin is hastily trying to explain the concept of an outside spin, but he's always been more of a hands-on instructor so he's not doing a very good job of it. Eventually Donghyuck caves and tells him so.

Jaemin moves his hands into place, pulling Donghyuck close in one swift motion. It doesn't fluster Donghyuck like it used to; not now that he's known Jaemin for a week and he's heard his secret from Jeno. He's learned that Jaemin is more sincere than he pretends to be. “Eager to begin, are we? If you wanted my attention, Your Highness, you only need to say so.”

“Are you always such a sweet talker?” Donghyuck asks, meeting Jaemin's gaze, though he really has no choice considering their faces are a mere two inches apart.

Jaemin laughs, and it bubbles out of his chest like a song. “My dear Prince, it is my job to sweet talk. How do you think I ended up here, giving lessons to a royal, when just a few years ago I was merely the star of a lowly dance troupe?”

He dips Donghyuck, who strains his neck to keep looking at Jaemin. “Did it ever work on Prince Haechan?”

Jaemin tilts his head, the picture of innocence. “You tell me, Your Highness. Is it working on you?”

That isn't what Donghyuck meant, but then Jaemin is spinning him across the ballroom floor and all of his attention is focused on keeping up with his partner, dizziness and all.

* * *

The night of the ball is, as expected, a whirlwind of activity. Jeno stands against the wall as always, watching as Donghyuck is doted on and prettied up for his debut as the fake prince himself. It's nerve-wracking, and Donghyuck feels a bit like he may be ill, but his pride won't allow him to let anyone know that.

With one exception, obviously. “I am truly going to die tonight,” he says as he sits on his bed so as not to ruin his brand new outfit, tailored just for this night. It's a deep maroon that does compliment his complexion quite nicely, but it's the most uncomfortable thing he's ever had the displeasure of wearing.

Jeno shakes his head. “Not with me around, My Prince. I'll never allow it.”

“My death is not up to you, Sir Jeno,” Donghyuck argues, just to be petty.

“With all due respect, I beg to differ.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes, but it's fond. “I know, I know. It’s your duty to protect me, you swore your life to me, etcetera.”

A bright smile breaks out onto Jeno’s face. “Right you are, My Prince.” He reaches out his hand, and Donghyuck takes it, letting Jeno pull him to his feet. “Now if you'll excuse me, I'm afraid another guard will have to escort you to the ballroom.”

Donghyuck raises an eyebrow, but doesn't ask any questions. Jeno hands him off to a knight Donghyuck has never seen before (which isn't noteworthy, really, considering he hasn't met many of the knights at all) and they make their way down the corridor to where the king is standing beside the ballroom doors.

“Hello, son,” he says with a wink as soon as Donghyuck is by his side. “How are you feeling?”

“Unprepared,” Donghyuck says truthfully. Would the king be terribly upset if he were to vomit on the pristine marble floors?

The king gives him a comforting pat on the back. “Nonsense, boy, you're going to do splendidly. Renjun and Jaemin have spoken very highly of you!”

Donghyuck has half a mind to point out that the royal tutor and dance instructor may have ulterior motives in praising a fake prince, but then the doors are swinging open and the king is ushering him into the room and they're being announced and there's the general commotion of the nobility greeting them. Donghyuck bows as he's supposed to, and it's strange to hear himself introduced as Prince Haechan but he doesn't let himself outwardly falter. If he has a tendency to forget what he's doing this for - _who_ he's doing this for - that's no one’s dilemma but his own.

Overall, he likes to think he handles himself well. Word has spread by now, rumours that the prince isn't who he once was, and every Lord and Lady and Count and Duke are lining up to meet him. He remembers none of their names, only a few of their faces, and only accepts an invitation to dance after he's made his rounds. To his dismay, he spends the next three songs waltzing with an elderly Duchess who nearly dislocates a hip each time she attempts a twirl. It's beyond stressful, and extremely draining. As the opening notes of the fourth song ring out into the air, he excuses himself under the pretense of needing a drink.

Which admittedly isn't a lie, but he can't very well down an entire flute of champagne in one go, so as it stands, he hovers on the edge of the room and prays that no one bothers him.

Of course that isn't the case. The interruption comes in the form of a particularly tall, young Earl who introduces himself as Jisung and asks for the next dance. Donghyuck says he'd rather just have a nice chat, if that's alright.

Jisung laughs, but Donghyuck can tell how nervous he is by the way he's wringing his hands. “Ah, the Duchess got to you first?”

Donghyuck hums as he takes a sip of his drink. “An unfortunate oversight on my part.” He looks up at Jisung. “Do you like to dance?”

Jisung looks a bit taken aback at the question, but doesn't hesitate to say, “I love it, truly.”

“Then why don't you ask someone better than me to dance? Surely you'd enjoy it more.”

Jisung’s eyes go wide at that. “There is no one better than you, Your Highness.”

Donghyuck gives him a funny look. “According to whom?” He knows for a fact that word of his dancing hasn't gotten around, considering this is the first time he's doing it publicly, and his only partner thus far had been quite a bit of a handicap.

Jisung stares at him for several moments, like he's assessing the danger of answering. Eventually he settles for a simple, “You, Your Highness.”

Prince Haechan, that bastard. Donghyuck knew he spoke highly of himself, but it hadn't crossed his mind that the prince would fish for compliments on top of it. He sighs. “Please disregard whatever I've said to you in the past. I'm sorry for it, honestly I am. We've all made mistakes, and I assure you I'm a changed man, and I’d very much like to put that version of myself behind me.” Jisung looks dumbstruck, so Donghyuck downs the last few sips of champagne and grabs his hand. “Let's dance, shall we?”

Jisung turns out to be a much better dancer than the old Duchess whose name Donghyuck can't recall (which doesn't matter because she's likely on the verge of death anyway) and he doesn't mind at all when Jisung asks for another song. Someone cuts in after that, a pretty young girl whose name and title Donghyuck doesn't catch, and then he's being passed around the room from partner to partner, apologizing for things he never did and taking back words he never said.

It's genuinely not so bad, he finds, to laugh and dance and drink with people he barely knows. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jeno’s voice reminds him that he can't make Prince Haechan look any worse than he already does, so he opts to let himself have fun and make amends as best he can in the process. Everyone seems to be taking it well, if the proud smiles the king keeps directing at him are any indication.

He is, however, not accustomed to these lengthy parties, so at some point in the night he slips outside to have a break and breathe some fresh air. He sits on a stone bench out on the balcony, inhaling the spring air and closing his eyes. The sun has long since set, but the moon is bright enough to light up the back of his eyelids. Crickets are chirping somewhere off in the garden below, and this is the closest to home Donghyuck has felt since his arrival at the palace.

He hears footsteps behind him, and hurries to compose himself in a more princely manner, but then Jeno is standing before him and whispering a reassuring, “It's only me, My Prince,” and he breathes a sigh of relief.

Donghyuck motions for Jeno to sit down, which he does, though he leaves a considerable distance between them. Donghyuck thinks it's peculiar how quiet Jeno can be clad in metal, but then the realization hits. “You're not wearing your armour, Sir Jeno?” He’s wearing all white, and the fabric of his jacket glimmers in the silver light of the moon.

“No, not tonight. It dampens the mood of the party, you see.” He jerks his head in the direction of the arched doorway, at the rowdy nobility inside.

Donghyuck frowns. “Have you been here all night then?”

Jeno nods. “I will always be wherever you are.”

Now Donghyuck gives him a proper pout. “And why did you not come say hello, even once?”

“I told you, My Prince, bodyguards ruin the atmosphere,” Jeno says with a placating smile.

Donghyuck can't argue there, really, but that doesn't mean he likes it. “Well, maybe the atmosphere needs to be ruined every now and then,” he grumbles, and Jeno chuckles. Donghyuck looks back up at the moon, casting a pearly glow on his face. “In all honesty, they seem fine enough. I don't understand how he could treat them so poorly.”

“He treated everyone poorly.”

Donghyuck turns, meeting Jeno’s eyes. They look like they hold all the stars in the sky. “Did he treat you poorly?”

Something hardens in Jeno’s gaze, but it only lasts a moment. “Not as poorly as some of the others. I was never a member of his personal guard.”

Donghyuck lets out a breath. “Good. If he'd hurt you, I would've had to give him a good, long talking to.”

“And what would that have done?” Jeno asks, voice full of mirth.

“Absolutely nothing, I'm sure. But I could've given him a good kick to the shin like I've wanted to for ages, so maybe that would make me feel better.”

“I'm sure it would, My Prince.”

Donghyuck rises from the bench, moving to stand in front of Jeno. “Don't you ever tire of being so formal?”

Jeno looks up at him, face unreadable. “Not at all. Why do you ask, My Prince?”

“That's precisely why,” Donghyuck says, voice tight. “You always call me ‘My Prince’ when there's no need for it. You could just as well call me Donghyuck, and it wouldn't matter.”

Jeno doesn’t hesitate to say, “Has it ever occurred to you that maybe I just consider you more of a Prince than he ever was?”

Donghyuck feels his eyebrows rise considerably. “I'm sorry?”

Jeno stands to meet Donghyuck eye to eye. “Being a Prince is not about who you're born to. Blood doesn't make a man great, and a title doesn't give a man character. You're more of a Prince than he could ever dream of being, and you will always be _My_ Prince.”

Donghyuck doesn't have a proper response to that, so he just whispers, “Then, what would you say if your Prince asked for a dance?”

Jeno eyes him, searching his face for something Donghyuck isn't sure he finds. “Would it be an order, or an invitation?”

“It's simply a question.” Donghyuck wants to reach out a hand, pull Jeno close, but he doesn't want to force anything. What kind of a man abuses power that isn't even his to wield? “If your Prince asked for a dance, he'd only ask you to say yes if it's what you truly want.”

Jeno doesn't answer right away, just moves to slot their hands together, sliding an arm around Donghyuck’s waist. “If My Prince asked for a dance, I would undoubtedly say yes.”

Donghyuck can feel the smile break out onto his face, can see the way Jeno is beaming at him, and as he slides a hand onto Jeno’s shoulder and starts swaying to the faint notes of a harp being played, he thinks, _this is it._ The moonlight washes over them, and Jeno holds him to his chest, and this is the closest to home Donghyuck’s ever been.

* * *

The thing about parties, and champagne, and moonlight, is that they have a way of making things seem much more significant than they are. Donghyuck is reminded of this cruel reality when he wakes up the next morning and Jeno is back in his armour, back to his reserved smile, and back to giving Donghyuck too much space.

“Would you like to see your brother today, My Prince?” Jeno asks as Donghyuck slips on his shoes. He's made it a point to visit Johnny at least once a week, and today, he has much more to talk about than usual. He just nods. Jeno mirrors the gesture, opening the door to let Donghyuck lead the way down to the kitchen.

When he steps through the door, he spots Johnny in the back of the room stirring something in an obscenely large pot. He’s relieved that Jeno won't be within hearing distance for this conversation, because he imagines the atmosphere would turn sour quite rapidly.

“Johnny, I have something to tell you,” he starts off as soon as he strides to the other end of the counter.

Johnny looks up, the rhythm of his movements stuttering for just a beat. “Nice to see you too, Hyuck,” he says, teasing.

“You know I love seeing you, but this is _urgent,”_ Donghyuck insists. He takes a seat on the stool that's quickly becoming his spot and his alone. He's never seen anyone else use it, has no idea why it's even here.

“Most things are, with you.” Johnny stops his stirring, placing the ladle off to the side so he can give Donghyuck his full attention. Or most of it, anyway. He still needs to keep an eye on whatever he's got simmering on the stove. “What’s happened?”

Donghyuck sighs ever so mournfully, which prompts Johnny to lean against the counter. He knows they'll be here a while. “So, as you know, I went to the ball last night.”

“Right. How was that?”

Donghyuck sighs again, though it’s a lot more wistful this time around. “It was absolutely lovely, but that isn't the point.”

“Well, I'm glad then,” Johnny says amiably. “So what is the point, if I may ask?”

Donghyuck looks over his shoulder to where Jeno is standing by the door, watching the interaction. He bites his lip, turning back to Johnny with a whisper. “Sir Jeno danced with me.”

Johnny's face has never been so blank in the twenty years of life Donghyuck has known him. “I fail to see why this is such groundbreaking news.”

Donghyuck huffs, exasperated. “Because, dimwit, he _danced_ with me under the _moonlight._ It was very romantic and definitely not formal and today he won't even spare me a glance!”

Johnny puts his hands on Donghyuck’s shoulders, gently pushing him back from where he's inched forward in his anguish. “Hyuck, I'm not sure where to begin with this.”

“You can begin by feeling bad for me.” He leans back further, crossing his arms. It seems defiant, but in reality it's mostly to shield himself from the impending lecture.

Johnny shakes his head. “First of all, I think you're reading too much into something that isn't meant to be figured out. He can have a dance with you and not be madly in love, no matter how romantic you think the scenery is. And if he is, then I'm sure he has his reasons for acting the way he is. Though I feel it's necessary to point out, it's barely mid morning and you've already decided he's ignoring you.”

“He's not ignoring me though, he's treating me like he always has.”

Johnny lets his hands slide from Donghyuck’s shoulders, running a hand down his face. “Again, I fail to see the issue here. If something was wrong, wouldn't he be treating you differently?”

Donghyuck shakes his head. “He _was_ treating me differently last night. Now he's stopped.”

Johnny just picks the ladle up, going back to stirring what seems to be some sort of stew. “I think, if it really bothers you, you should talk to him. Maybe he'll be able to shed some light on the situation.”

Donghyuck seriously doubts that. Not that he'll ask, anyway.

* * *

Fate surely has something out for Donghyuck, or perhaps he's just cursed, because as they exit the kitchen, Jeno once again sends him reeling.

“Have you heard about our tradition, for when the kingdom enters a new alliance?”

Donghyuck can’t fathom why Jeno would be quizzing him on his studies, but he nods regardless. “There's a mock fight between the Princes of the two kingdoms. It's meant to be symbolic, a metaphor for ending the conflict between them after one last battle.” Donghyuck isn't sure why it would be needed if there wasn't a conflict to begin with, but that's irrelevant.

Or so he thinks. “Right. Well, the King just signed a treaty of solidarity with a neighbouring kingdom, so you'll need to begin combat training today.”

Donghyuck stops in his tracks. “He did?”

Jeno takes one last step to stand beside him, nodding. “Were you not aware that was the reason for the ball?”

Donghyuck’s jaw drops. It hadn't even occurred to him to ask for a reason - he’d assumed the nobility needed something to cure their boredom, or maybe the king just wanted to flaunt his new and improved son. “No one told me, and I didn't ask.”

Jeno just nods like he'd been expecting as much. “Well, there you have it. The duel is in three weeks, which isn't much time at all, but I think we can get you into decent shape by then.” He starts walking again, and Donghyuck scampers to keep up.

They're heading outside a part of the castle Donghyuck’s never been before when he finally wraps his head around it. “Alright then, who'll be teaching me?”

There's an open area, a flat plain covered in dirt, with various weapons and armour mounted nearby. It's framed in by a horse stable off to the left, and a row of archery targets off to the right. There's even a sparkling pond off in the distance. The only thing it's missing is an instructor.

“That would be me,” Jeno says as he starts removing his armour, and Donghyuck feels his face go hot.

“You?” he says, taken aback.

Jeno pauses with a vambrace halfway off. “If you'll have me.”

Donghyuck is amazed by how dense Jeno can be, if he fails to see the issue Donghyuck has with this arrangement. “No, no, I'd love for you to teach me.” He shifts his weight as he watches Jeno continue to strip to his padded jacket, only to take that off and reveal a thin shirt.

“If it's protection you're worried about,” Jeno says as he takes off his last shin guard and stands upright, “I assure you I can keep you safe even while sparring.”

That isn't exactly what Donghyuck had been worried about. “I think I’m more concerned about the fact I’ll be fighting you rather than any external threats,” he counters, which isn't a lie, more of a deflection, really. Jeno has very toned arms, Donghyuck can see, and he's been to _battle._ The closest Donghyuck’s come to a fight was shaking his rolling pin at an unruly child who stole a tart from the counter of his bakery without paying.

“You know I’d never hurt you, My Prince,” Jeno reminds him. “I gave my life for your safety.”

“You really must stop saying that,” Donghyuck tuts. “I don't want to take your life from you, in any sense of the word.”

Jeno gives him a crooked smile. “I know, My Prince. I'd never ask you to.”

Donghyuck eyes him, but this is a battle he'll never win, no matter how much training he suffers through. “Just go easy on me. I'm not nearly as experienced as you.”

Jeno laughs then. “Oh, so you have experience.”

Donghyuck is, first of all, appalled that Jeno is teasing him, and secondly, going to die of embarrassment because of it. “Not at all,” he admits begrudgingly.

Jeno just keeps smiling, probably because he knows it's annoying when he's smug. “Well then, we have our work cut out for us.”

* * *

Donghyuck is slowly getting used to seeing Jeno without his armour.

It's not the same as his elegant ball attire, because the plain clothes he wears to spar are thin and soft and loose and just generally have Donghyuck horribly flustered. Donghyuck is positively amazed at how difficult it is to block a strike when the only thing he can focus on is the dip of Jeno’s collarbone shifting beneath the neckline of his shirt. He's already shoddy at best, and with the added distraction of his opponent he's practically useless. To put it shortly, he’s mortified.

Jeno remains ever oblivious, explaining how to properly grip the hilt of the sword, demonstrating different jabbing techniques, and reminding Donghyuck for the thousandth time that he _must_ keep his feet planted or he'll be knocked over in an instant. Donghyuck would like to argue that he'll be bested in an instant regardless, but he knows it's a moot point.

One day nearly two weeks into their training, while they're having a break because Donghyuck is only human and therefore has his limits, he follows Jeno over to where he's standing by the stable. “So, is knighthood as fulfilling as you'd hoped?” he asks out of nowhere, but Jeno doesn't react. He just keeps stroking the muzzle of a particularly stunning black mare.

“Yes, but in a different way than I anticipated.”

He doesn't elaborate, naturally, so Donghyuck prompts him. “How so?”

Jeno pats the horse’s neck before diverting his attention to Donghyuck. “I knew I would enjoy helping people, that's the reason I joined. But I found combat to be oddly familiar, in a way.”

He's lost Donghyuck. “Familiar in what way?”

Jeno shrugs. “I was never a fighter, but when I really got into it I recognized sparring is strangely like a dance. The movements are all very fluid, and I think that's why I took to it so well.”

“You do realize,” Donghyuck clarifies, “that combat is life or death, and dancing is either a fine time or acute embarrassment at worst.”

Jeno laughs at him, softly. “I do, My Prince. But the feeling is the same, for me. I don't pretend to be a born fighter, but it's brought me more gratification than I ever hoped.”

Donghyuck hums. “You seem to be a natural born fighter to me. I assure you I mean that as a compliment,” he adds, just in case Jeno gets the wrong idea about Donghyuck seeing him as a brute.

“Thank you. It means the world coming from you, My Prince.” Jeno bows, as he is wont to do for no reason at all. “But you know, truthfully, the only reason I've gotten this good is through dedicated practice. Forgive me, but you take too many breaks.” He snickers, starting off in the direction of the clearing.

Donghyuck pouts the rest of the day, but secretly he loves the teasing.

* * *

A few days before the fight, Donghyuck is feeling more confident than ever. He's still only average at best, and a horrible pupil at worst, but Jeno assures him that he won't be made a fool of and in the end that's really all he can ask for. The victor of the duel has no practical meaning, anyway.

He's able to hold his own when they spar in training, and he's bold enough to ask for more. “Sir Jeno,” he says one day after they finish their usual rounds of combat, “I have a request.”

Jeno eyes him, because Donghyuck rarely asks anything of him. “Yes, My Prince?”

Donghyuck looks at his dirt-scuffed shoe and feels pity for whichever maid will have to deal with the stains later. “Will you fight me properly?”

He looks back up, and Jeno’s face is unchanged. “Have I been somehow lacking to this point?”

Donghyuck drops his sword, taking a step toward him. He can physically see Jeno bite his tongue from chastising him about being so careless with a weapon. “No, you’re a grand fighter. Which is why I want you to fight me properly. Don't hold back.”

Jeno is shaking his head before Donghyuck even gets the words out. “Absolutely not.”

Donghyuck raises his eyebrows, challenging. “Oh, so you'd go against what your Prince asks?”

“If it conflicts with your safety, yes.”

Donghyuck takes another step forward. “You think that highly of yourself, Sir Jeno?”

“No, but I do know that I've killed many men, and I’d prefer if you weren't one of them.”

Donghyuck gives him a smile that's all teeth. “You wouldn't kill me, or even hurt me, for that matter. You've sworn your life on it.”

Jeno looks pained, like he knows he's lost. Which he has. “I did.”

“Well, come on then. You wouldn't break a vow, would you?”

Donghyuck backs away, grabbing his sword and dusting it off with his free hand so it glints in the sunlight. Jeno falters, opens his mouth as if to argue, but thinks better of it and steps away. They face each other, swords ready at their sides, and Jeno gives the battle cry, his deep voice ringing out in the open air. _“Aut cum scuto aut in scuto!”_

Jeno is instantly in motion, charging at Donghyuck with a speed and dexterity that one would expect from a trained veteran. Donghyuck’s not as coordinated, not as accustomed to the extra weight of the sword in his hands, but he does manage to dodge Jeno’s attack well enough. It's glaringly obvious that Jeno is only warming up, easing Donghyuck into an actual spar so he can adjust as he goes. It's thoughtful, if a bit futile.

Donghyuck takes a swing, guiding the sword with his right hand and thrusting with his left like Jeno had taught him, but he doesn't come remotely close to actually hitting Jeno. Jeno counters, and they develop a rhythm of sorts, but Donghyuck has the sneaking suspicion that Jeno’s only toying with him.

He ends up being correct. After several minutes of back and forth, Jeno charges at Donghyuck with his quickest strike yet; Donghyuck blocks it, somehow, but Jeno still lands a solid blow to the blade of his sword. The force of the impact nearly sends Donghyuck reeling backwards.

Donghyuck has to use all of his strength just to push Jeno off of his sword, but he barely has a moment to correct his stance before Jeno comes at him again with another solid swing. Donghyuck evades it, but the tip of Jeno’s blade grazes his arm. Blood trickles down his wrist to the hilt of his sword, and he would be impressed that Jeno isn't panicking over injuring _his prince_ if he weren't so occupied with trying to dodge his sword.

It feels like the duel goes on for ages - possibly an eternity. At a certain point the gap in their experience becomes tremendously clear; Donghyuck is honestly giving his best effort, but no amount of resolve can combat years of training and conditioned stamina. He holds his sword up to stop Jeno’s blow, but the momentum of the strike knocks him back.

Donghyuck staggers back a few steps, before gravity gets the better of him and he tumbles to the ground. The heft of his sword throws him off balance enough that he fails to catch himself, and lands nearly flat on his back.

Jeno pushes him the rest of the way with his foot, Donghyuck’s hair tangling in the dirt. Then he leans down, sweaty hair falling from its usual pompadour to stick haphazardly to his forehead, and presses the edge of his blade to Donghyuck’s throat, directly on the vein. The metal visibly pulses with every thump of Donghyuck’s heart.

He's never felt more alive.

* * *

The day of the duel, Donghyuck rises bright and early, much earlier than necessary, because he's anxious to meet his opponent and put his training to the test.

His opponent happens to be the ever sweet Prince Chenle; though he does strike Donghyuck as an instigating little menace, he's polite and well behaved, if a bit loud. He's a year younger than Donghyuck, which would normally ensure a fairly even match, but anyone on Donghyuck’s side knows that it most likely won't be. It's alright, Donghyuck has been assured, because Prince Haechan never did bother with his combat training much.

In the end, Donghyuck puts up a good fight, albeit a short one. He's passable in close combat, but Chenle has been training his entire life, as any legitimate prince would, so he has years of experience on Donghyuck despite the fact that he's younger. There are no hard feelings, obviously, because the whole point of this is to celebrate the alliance of the two kingdoms. And anyway, by the time the duel ends, most of the attending nobles are halfway drunk.

“You nearly bested me, Haechan,” Chenle says once he's helped Donghyuck off the ground from where he'd been pseudo-stabbed with the blunt end of Chenle’s blade.

“That isn't true and you know it,” Donghyuck contends. “But I appreciate the sentiment anyway.” He brushes the dirt off of his clothes, sheathing his sword as Chenle does the same.

“Still, you've improved greatly since the last time we met,” Chenle says conversationally as they make their way to a massive table covered in food. Even fake combat works up an appetite, as it turns out.

Donghyuck hums noncommittally, since he has no notion of the meeting Chenle’s referring to. “Well, I've decided to stop neglecting my duties, which I suppose makes a considerable difference.”

Chenle laughs freely. “You're correct in supposing so. Just last year I would have finished you in seconds.”

Donghyuck finds it easy to chuckle along with him, partially because Chenle has a contagious laugh that holds no hint of judgment, and partially because he's actually laughing at Prince Haechan and not Donghyuck himself. “How lucky for me that our kingdoms waited till now to align, then.”

Chenle just giggles some more, before he's being beckoned by some noble at the other end of the table. Donghyuck gives him a little bow of his head and moves to grab some pork, but a new presence at his side attracts his attention.

“You did well, My Prince,” Jeno says, shaking his head when Donghyuck offers him a plate. “For a moment I believed you’d win.”

“Only a moment?” Donghyuck teases as he dumps a pile of potatoes onto the plate he’s holding.

“You know I have absolute faith in you,” Jeno allows, “but you were at a great disadvantage. Which is why I’m so impressed at your performance.”

Donghyuck sucks in an exaggerated gasp. “Is that a compliment I hear? Say it again, Jeno, let me relish this moment.” Jeno doesn't speak, or move, or even blink for so long that Donghyuck turns and taps him on the chest. He starts, clearing his throat. “What is it?” Donghyuck asks, because he knows Jeno will never say it of his own accord.

“You called me _Jeno.”_

Their eyes lock, and Donghyuck feels a spark in his chest. “I suppose I did. That's what you wanted, is it not? Or are you changing your mind now that it's happened?”

He moves from the table to find his seat beside the king, Jeno following dutifully all the way. He pushes Donghyuck’s chair in for him, then shifts to stand behind it before he says, “I would never change my mind about that, I'm only surprised that you changed yours.”

Donghyuck plays with the food on his plate, thinking. He's surprised too, in all honesty, but he's too proud to say so directly. If Jeno doesn't know his effect on Donghyuck, well, there's no reason to tell him now.

* * *

The following weeks are monotonous in the best way. Donghyuck studies with Renjun in the morning, dances with Jaemin in the evening, and spars with Jeno at night. It's a routine he enjoys, and at some point along the way he starts considering his daily companions his friends. When he’d said as much one day out of sincerity, Jaemin had nearly burst into tears, spinning him around the ballroom like he'd been waiting for that moment his entire life. Renjun had just patted him lightly on the hand, but the way he rubbed his thumb across Donghyuck’s knuckles said more than words ever could.

Jeno, on the other hand, is not so simple. Donghyuck lays in bed one morning, awake for no reason other than restlessness, so he starts when Jeno opens the door quietly. He wants to say something, let Jeno know how much he means to him, for surely he'd heard Donghyuck tell the others as much, and Donghyuck feels terrible for dragging this out. But that's the problem, isn't it? Jeno means more to Donghyuck to the others, whatever that may entail, so it's so much harder to convey through words.

In the end, it doesn't matter in the slightest what Donghyuck wants to do, because Jeno beats him to it with the absolute last thing Donghyuck is expecting to hear. Jeno steps into the room, and when he notices Donghyuck is already awake, he kneels by the bed, face unusually neutral. “Haechan is dead, My Prince.”

Donghyuck sits up with a jerk, looking down at Jeno like he's lost his head. “He's _what?”_

“He's gone,” Jeno reiterates with a bow of his head. “Happened sometime last night, we think.”

Donghyuck tugs on Jeno’s arm, pulling him up to sit on the edge of the bed. “How? What happened? Was it a natural death?” Something occurs to Donghyuck then that he hadn't considered before. “Where was he?”

Jeno sighs. “He was stabbed through the chest. I'm afraid I don't know where the King was keeping him, though I've heard rumours amongst the guard that he'd been sent away to the royal summer home. But I doubt that's the case, if word of his death has come so quickly.”

“So he was murdered?” Donghyuck asks, eyes wide.

Jeno nods solemnly. “We suspect it was Mark Lee.”

Mark Lee, that maniac. Donghyuck can't believe he finally did it. He almost wants to congratulate him, give him a medal or a knighthood or at least a very nice pie. But then the weight of what's happened settles on his shoulders, and a horrible thought crosses his mind. “Jeno?”

The knight meets his gaze, searching. “Yes, My Prince?”

Donghyuck doesn't point out that there's no need for Jeno to refer to him so formally now that the reason for this whole arrangement has been eliminated. “What will happen to me, now that the true Prince is gone?”

Jeno just looks at him with watery eyes, and this is the first time in the months Donghyuck’s known him that Jeno has looked unsure. “I can’t say. That's for the King to decide.”

* * *

Jeno thrusts open the tall wooden doors, allowing Donghyuck to enter the room before following as always. It's the same room where Donghyuck first met with the king, but it seems so different now from all those months ago. It's familiar, in a way, but still so daunting. Last time he stood here, the king gave him an offer that would change his life forever. Now, he has the power to end it.

“Donghyuck!” the king says from his perch on the desk. He slides off, meeting Donghyuck in the middle of the room.

“Hello, sir,” Donghyuck says neutrally. He isn't sure how he's meant to act, or what the king may decide.

The king starts his pacing again, as he’s been known to do. “I'm sure Sir Jeno has told you the news,” he says, pausing for Donghyuck to answer.

“Yes, sir,” Donghyuck confirms. He doesn't mention the fact that even the king himself addresses Jeno with his title. It's not the time, nor his place.

“Correct me if I’m wrong,” the king says as he turns on his heel, “but I suspect you must be curious what that means for you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, to put it simply, it's your decision,” is not the answer Donghyuck had expected.

“I'm sorry, sir?” he says dumbly, staring at the king like he's grown a new head.

Thankfully the king has turned back around, so he doesn't see Donghyuck’s stricken state. “On one hand, we could announce the death of the Prince to the public, but that would clearly mean you could never be seen again.” He looks at Donghyuck, lifting a placating hand before Donghyuck can so much as whimper. “I don't mean anything drastic, my boy. You've been far too good to me and my kingdom, and you certainly aren't deserving of the same fate as my son.”

Donghyuck bows his head. “Thank you, sir.”

The king waves him off good naturedly. “It's the truth. However, we can't very well have someone who looks like my son wandering the streets while he's presumed dead, now can we?” Donghyuck shakes his head. “So you - and your brother, I'm sure - would have to leave. I will gladly make arrangements for your safe departure and arrival at the destination of your choice, if you wish.”

Donghyuck hesitates only a heartbeat before asking, “What is the alternative, if I may ask?”

The king goes back to pacing. “On the other hand, as I said, you've been a good Prince. Excellent, even! The nobles and commoners alike utter only praises for my son’s name nowadays, and that is all your doing.” He gives Donghyuck a warm smile before spinning to walk back the other direction. “On top of that, our castle staff love you, Renjun commends your intelligence, and Jaemin adores your company.” Donghyuck doesn't wonder why there's no mention of Jeno, truly he doesn't. “So, all that to say,” he turns to face Donghyuck one last time, “if you'd like, you may continue as the Prince. No one must know what happened to my son, if you wish to continue this way.”

Donghyuck freezes. Even a few short months ago, he would have said he's leaving, packed his bags, and run out the castle gates with Johnny in tow, no questions asked. Now though, he has more to lose. He has duties, and obligations, even if they were never really his to claim. He has his studies, and extracurriculars, and the little garden near the east wall that he's taken to tending. He has friends, and family, and Jeno.

And he hasn’t the slightest idea what to do about any of it.

* * *

Once again, fate is not on Donghyuck’s side. Or well, perhaps it is, but he hasn't decided yet.

Sure enough, it was none other than Mark Lee himself who assassinated the prince. How he got word that there was an imposter in the palace, or the whereabouts of the true prince, no one knows, but that's an issue for another day. For now, the matter at hand is what he's doing in the town courtyard.

Word comes from a knight called Jaehyun, who had run into town for a few mundane errands, only to return immediately with news of a horrible scene. Mark Lee stands in the center of town, waving his bloody sword in the air, generally making a spectacle, and hollering about how Prince Haechan finally got what he damn well deserved.

No one disagrees with that statement, strictly speaking. And granted, even the king is much less affected than Donghyuck would have anticipated, but he supposes it’s also not his business if the king is putting up a strong front. Either way, the gig is up. Donghyuck has to leave, or everyone will know that the real Prince Haechan left long ago.

Donghyuck is told to stay in his quarters till the guard can subdue Mark Lee, and hopefully let things die down before making any brash moves. It isn't as if Donghyuck can leave now anyway, with all the commotion. So for the time being, he sits in his room.

It would be lonely, and it is a bit miserable, but Jeno’s company makes it slightly more endurable. He’s the same as he's always been, the only constant in this whole backwards endeavor, and Donghyuck is more grateful than Jeno will ever know. More guards are posted at his door now, just in case Mark Lee comes back with a vengeance, but Jeno is the only one who never leaves his side. He's even started sleeping in the big velvet chair in Donghyuck’s room. Which seems awfully uncomfortable, and unnecessarily so. Especially when Donghyuck’s bed could easily fit five people.

So one night while Jeno dozes off, Donghyuck creeps out of bed and taps him on the shoulder. He shoots up, hand on the hilt of his sword, but relaxes when he sees it’s only Donghyuck. “Everything alright, My Prince?”

And Donghyuck is so, so tired. Tired of pretending, tired of fearing for his life, and tired of formality. “Jeno, come off it. I'm not the Prince, I never was.”

Jeno gives him a funny look. “You -”

Donghyuck’s voice is thick when he says, “Don't say I will always be _your_ Prince. Just don't.” The tears fall before he can stop them.

Jeno doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around Donghyuck’s shaking shoulders, whispering sweet nothings into his hair. “You need to sleep,” he says after what could be hours or could be mere seconds, Donghyuck wouldn't know.

Donghyuck nods, stepping out of Jeno’s embrace to sniffle and swipe at the moisture beneath his eyes. “You do too,” he says thickly.

Jeno just nods, sets his sword beside the chair and lets Donghyuck guide him to the bed, drawing back the covers so they can climb in. As soon as their bodies hit the mattress, Donghyuck buries his face in Jeno’s chest. Jeno runs a hand through Donghyuck’s hair, pressing a kiss to the crown of his head. “You've done well, Donghyuck. You can rest, now.”

Donghyuck’s breath evens out to the sound of Jeno’s heartbeat pumping steadily in his chest.

* * *

The king calls a meeting with him the next morning.

Donghyuck doesn't feel any better than the day before, but he does feel stronger, and that must count for something. He enters the room without even a pause for Jeno to open the door for him, and walks over to prop his hands up on the king’s desk.

“Donghyuck, hello!” the king says, ever cheerful.

Donghyuck is not in the mood for pleasantries. “I want to tell them.”

The kind looks rightfully baffled. “Tell who what, my boy?”

Donghyuck stands up straight, shoulders back, chest out. Just like Jeno had told him soldiers stand. “I want to tell everyone what we did. Who I am. Who I _really_ am, that is.”

The king blinks at him for several seconds. “When you say everyone -”

“I mean _everyone,”_ Donghyuck echoes. “They deserve to know the truth.”

The king looks mildly stunned at being interrupted, but doesn't react beyond the cock of his eyebrow. “If you wish.” He waves Jeno over from where he'd been standing by the door. “Sir Jeno, are you prepared for Donghyuck to go through with this?”

Jeno bows his head. “Yes, Your Highness. I will protect him with my life.”

The king nods. “And if it goes badly?” _Which it very well may,_ is the unspoken addendum.

“I will die with him, Your Highness.”

Donghyuck has had enough. “There will be none of that, Jeno,” he cuts in, shoving Jeno gently out of the way. “All due respect, sir, but this is my decision. Let me do it. I refuse to let anyone else get hurt.” Not that he’d been all that bothered about Prince Haechan, but still. If Mark Lee hadn’t gotten the information he had, that could've been Donghyuck with a blade through his heart. He won't allow the same thing to happen to Jeno.

The king’s lips stretch into a displeased line, but he must realize there's no winning this argument. “If that is your wish.”

* * *

The night before the announcement, Jeno tries to change his mind.

He’s back in the chair, Donghyuck sitting on the bed because neither of them can get any sleep. The light of the full moon streams through the crack in the curtains, and it reminds Donghyuck of that night they danced on the balcony. It seems so far away now.

“Jeno?” he whispers, afraid the moment will shatter. Jeno just hums in response, so Donghyuck moves to stand in front of him. “Jeno.”

Jeno looks up at him then. “Will you really go through with this?”

Donghyuck knows what he's thinking, all the awful outcomes he's picturing. Fate has rarely been kind to Donghyuck, and this is the prelude to the grandest tragedy of all. “You know I must.”

Jeno stands up so their eyes meet. “You don't have to, not if you don't want it. The King will understand, and probably -”

“I _do_ want to,” Donghyuck interjects. “If I have to run away a coward, I'd rather not be a liar, too.”

Jeno’s eyes water at that. “You are neither of those things, Donghyuck.”

Hearing his name in Jeno’s voice breaks something in Donghyuck. He wraps his arms around Jeno’s neck, cries into his shoulder, tells him he's sorry.

“Sorry for what, My Prince?” Jeno asks, cradling the back of Donghyuck’s head, rubbing soothing circles between his shoulder blades.

Donghyuck holds his breath for as long as he can before letting it out with, “For falling in love with you.”

Jeno stills, and Donghyuck can feel his pulse quicken where their chests are pressed together. “Don't be sorry for that. Never be sorry for loving someone.” Jeno pulls back to look Donghyuck in the eyes. “Especially not someone who is unconditionally, wholly yours.”

Donghyuck stares at him, eyes bleary, trying to comprehend his words. “You mean -”

Jeno cups his hands around Donghyuck's face and cradles his jaw so their eyes meet, thumbs brushing feather light circles over Donghyuck's cheeks. “I gave my life to you a long time ago, in any way you want it.”

That isn't an answer. Not a proper one, at least. “But is this what _you_ want, Jeno?” Donghyuck has to be sure.

The smile that settles on Jeno's face is unbearably tender. “I would love nothing more, My Prince.”

Donghyuck can't be sure who moves first, but a moment later, their lips crash together.

* * *

The announcement itself goes as well as could be expected. Donghyuck says his piece from a palace balcony, a hush falls over the commoners below, and in that moment of reflection he's ushered back inside before much of anything can happen.

Then he waits.

He waits for days. He doesn't even see Jeno, because Donghyuck told his captain not to allow it. If something cataclysmic is bound to happen, he'd rather avoid any collateral damage. Especially if that collateral damage happens to be the life of the man he loves.

After a week, a knight comes to escort him to see the king. He follows the unfamiliar man to the room he's come to know so well lately, and wonders if this will be the last time he ever steps foot within it.

“Donghyuck,” the king says his name as he always does, though it's much more reserved than Donghyuck’s ever heard it.

“Sir,” he answers. He has nothing else to say.

The king sits at his desk, hands pressed together in a steeple, and for several minutes the room is silent save for the pounding of Donghyuck’s traitorous heart. Finally, after an eternity, the king speaks. “You never cease to amaze me, my boy.”

That doesn't clear anything up, as far as Donghyuck is concerned. “Sir?”

The king sighs, and Donghyuck wonders how stressful this whole ordeal has been for him. He's trying to run a kingdom on top of dealing with this mess, not to mention the death of a son, no matter how asinine the son may have been. “To put it shortly, the people want you to be the Prince.”

Donghyuck isn't following. “I don't understand.”

The king doesn't pace, doesn't even stand, and Donghyuck isn't sure if that's a good sign or a bad omen. “The people have seen your character, and they love you. They'd like you to inherit the throne, so if you wish, you may continue to be Prince. We will crown you with the title under your true name, and you may keep on with your duties as you've been doing so splendidly these last months.”

“And if I do not wish to be Prince?” Donghyuck asks, just to be sure.

“You may leave at your discretion,” the king says simply. “You have one day to decide. I admire your openness, as do the commoners, so you will announce your choice publicly, much like your previous declaration.”

With that, the knight guides him to the door, and Donghyuck returns to his room.

* * *

It's a lot of commotion, Donghyuck thinks, for such an uncertain event. He can already see from his bedroom window that the crowd is much larger than his last public appearance, and he sincerely hopes they’re here to support him. Though admittedly, even he isn't sure what his decision will be.

On one hand, he's grown fond of his life in the palace. Not just the accommodations, though that's a given, but he's learned to love the people and the pride he takes in his duties and yes, even his studies. On the other, he'd always been perfectly content with Johnny and their little bakery, and he could have that life back in an instant if he wished. It would be somewhere else, somewhere far away from here, but he'd have it back.

Then again, if he left, he'd be leaving Jeno.

Donghyuck hadn't expected to see him today, had assumed he'd be kept far away just like the last time, but apparently that isn't the case. He knocks on Donghyuck's bedroom door later in the morning, a mere hour before his choice must be made. Donghyuck is no closer to a solution.

Jeno must sense that, because he crosses the room with a few long strides and wraps his arms around Donghyuck’s waist. Donghyuck presses their foreheads together, squeezes his eyes shut to will away the tears.

“Do you know your choice, My Prince?” Jeno breathes into the air between them. Donghyuck doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to. “You know if you leave, I will be nothing short of delighted for you.”

“Don't do that,” Donghyuck says weakly. “Don't give me permission to go.”

Jeno cards his fingers through Donghyuck's hair, soothing. “You always have permission to make the right decision for _you._ You let me make my choice, now it's time for me to allow you to make yours.”

“I can't stay here just for you.” Donghyuck’s voice is hoarse, tears stuck in his throat.

Jeno cradles Donghyuck's face in his hands, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I know. If you stay, stay for _you.”_

“What if I want to stay for them?” Donghyuck glances toward the window, toward the crowds of people waiting to hear his answer.

Jeno smiles at him, and it's the sweetest thing Donghyuck has ever seen. “Then I think you'll make an admirable Prince, my love.”

There's another knock at the door, and the guards are there to take Donghyuck away to choose his fate. He presses a soft kiss to Jeno’s smile and whispers, “Wait for me?”

Jeno beams back at him. “I will always be by your side. I swear it on my life.” Donghyuck returns his bright smile at full force. He isn't scared anymore - not of the decision. He has his answer, and they're waiting for it. 

It's time to claim his throne.

**Author's Note:**

> honestly i have not enjoyed writing something as much as i enjoyed this in a very long time,, i am but a simple romantic who crammed every cliche i could into this one fic
> 
> fun fact i stole that battle cry from the spartans because they may have had some very questionable values but their aesthetic was absolutely metal (in case you're wondering, it means "either with shield or on shield" which basically means death before surrender)
> 
> anyway if you stan 7dream come find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/mullethyuck) i need more nohyuck nation in my life <3


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